


Doubt and Depression

by Labstell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: No Smut, Other, This is my first post. I'd appreciate any honest criticism. Thanks to AML
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 17:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14242614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Labstell/pseuds/Labstell
Summary: Dean is tired and defeated.  Always another monster or demon to track down and kill.  For the thousandth time he wonders what his life would be like if his family had been "normal."  Cas comes to comfort him.





	Doubt and Depression

DOUBT and DEPRESSION

 

Dean unlocks the motel door and flicks on the light. Sam enters behind him almost sleepwalking. He drops his pack on the floor, and falls onto the bed face first. He wraps himself around a pillow, fetal style, and is breathing deep and steady in just a minute. Dean looks at him enviously and smiles. Sam could sleep anywhere, always could. Dean, on the other hand, hasn’t had a good nights sleep in over a week. Dean drops his pack on the other bed and puts his head in his hands. He stays in this position for a minute or two, and then runs his hands through his hair. There is a whisky bottle beside him, and he puts it to his lips, taking a long drink. He shuffles off to the shower, taking his bottle with him. He sets the water on hot, and looks at himself in the mirror as the water heats up. He doesn’t look long because he thinks he looks awful. He climbs into the shower and lets the hot water roll over his head and down the rest of his body. Another long drink of the whiskey, and he sets it aside and starts cleaning off all the gunk and blood from the nights hunt. 

He opens the bathroom door quietly, and sees that Sam is still asleep and hasn’t moved. He knows he is too restless to sleep. He grabs his wallet, and stuffs that and his phone into the back pockets of his jeans. Picking up the car keys, he takes one more look at Sammy over his shoulder and heads out into the night. His beloved Impala sits outside the motel room door, looking silky and sleek in the lights of the parking lot. He runs his hand down the side of the car, and says softly “Hey baby”. He checks around the entire car, and is relieved to see there is no damage from the evenings activities. 

Dean heads towards the little town looking for a bar. Even if they have little else, every town has a bar. But as he drives, he see’s a sign that says “Culver Park, next right” shining in his headlights. In a split second he decides he doesn’t want the bar. He doesn’t want to go through the tiring routine of talking to people, of trying to pick up someone he can be close to for just a little while. Even life seems too tiring tonight. So he takes the turn, and soon enough he is parking the Impala next to a small lake. The full moon makes the lake shimmer and shine. He grabs a tape without looking, and pushes it into the cassette player, turning up the volume. He gets out of the car, leaving the door open, and climbs onto the hood of the Impala, leaning against the windshield so he can look at the stars and drink. His plan is to drink until he passes out. He figures it is the only way he will ever get any rest. And this place is as good as any. 

It’s just that he’s so very tired. He’s tired of being on the road, always driving, always crashing in some shitty motel room, in some shitty town. He’s tired of fighting angels and demons and monsters. He’s tired of trying to save the world. Does anyone really care? He thinks that it’s possible that no one does. Him and Sam will sometimes get a thank you for saving someone’s life. But no one thanks him when he ganks a werewolf, or a vamp’s nest or some other monster and it’s only him and Sam. It’s like as soon as he kills 10 monsters, there are 100 more that need taking care of. A never ending battle. Why can’t he live the apple pie life like everyone else? Why can’t his problems be as simple as how to earn enough money to pay the bills, and why the hell are they out of pie? And where are the angels? Aren’t they supposed to be helping win this fight? When did they all abandon him? He hasn’t heard from Cas in weeks. Cas doesn’t answer his prayers. Where the fuck is he? Why won’t he answer? Doesn’t he see how much he is struggling? He tips the bottle to his lips and finds it’s empty. He is disgusted with himself. He can’t even manage to get himself drunk anymore. 

So he lays there, looking at the stars. The moon shines above him, lighting up the area around the Impala. He hears a song start; 

 

 

I need a sign to let me know you’re here  
All of these lines are being crossed over the atmosphere  
I need to know that things are gonna look up  
Cause I feel us drowning in a sea spilled from a cup

 

When there is no place safe, and no safe place to put my head  
When you feel the world shake from the words that are said  
I need a sign to let me know you’re here  
Cause my TV set just keeps it all from being clear  
I want a reason for the way things have to be  
I need a hand to build up some kind of hope inside of me

And I’m calling all angels  
I’m calling all you angels

 

Dean suddenly jumps off the Impala and tips his head up towards the heavens. “Do you hear that angels?” he screams. “I need a sign to let me know you’re here. To let me know you care. You were supposed to help me! You gave me this big ass job and then left me! How do you expect me to win, and to fight, when I’m all alone?” “Cas, where are you?!” “Don’t you love me anymore?”

Dean is silent for a moment, but there is no reply. No angel popping in to respond, or to comfort him. He has never felt so alone and defeated. His arms lower to his sides, one hand still clutching the empty whiskey bottle. He lowers his head and stares at the ground, as tears run down his cheeks. He startles when he hears a soft voice say “Dean”. He knows that gravelly voice. He wants to be angry, to shout at Cas for leaving him alone all this time. For not helping him when he called. But instead he just lifts his head to look at Cas, and the tears continue to flow. He wants to die. Cas takes one step toward him, reaching out a hand to take the empty bottle from Dean. Before he can hardly move, Dean is in his arms, with his head against his shoulder and his hands clutched tightly in the back of the trench coat, holding on to him like he is the only thing that will help him stay alive. Cas puts his arms around Dean, stroking his hair and back, No words are spoken, even when Dean finally stops crying and even then, they continue to hold on tight to each other. 

The angels circle around above them, looking down at them where the moon lights up the lake, making the patch of grass where the couple stands in each others arms dance with lights of silver. They know that Castiel will repair Dean. They know that Castiel will help Dean to be strong again. They know Castiel will help Dean find his road again. Because Dean Winchester must continue the fight. It is his destiny. 

 

March 22, 2018  
Inspiration: “Calling all Angels” by Train


End file.
